


The things we know

by GibbousLunation



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Romance, family/friendship emotions, lance smirks far too much stop him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GibbousLunation/pseuds/GibbousLunation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith doesn’t know why his heart sinks in his chest as the castle takes off in front of him, Shiro and Lance still trapped on board. He doesn’t know why the image of Lance’s half opened eyes and furrowed brows sticks to his ribs like a bruise. Except for the way he does, except for the fact he’s always known.</p><p>Or, the one where Keith says things out loud by accident far too often, and everything is so much more obvious after near death experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things we know

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm entirely in Klance hell and I needed there to be more angst/hurt in this fandom, and I feel like these dumb beans are the kind of couple that would accidentally be a couple for a while without realizing somehow so. Here's my take on that I guess? I took some creative liberties in extending the amount of time Lance was actually out for because a day seemed too convenient, and I like making things that much more dramatic. Anyways, enjoy!

Keith couldn’t believe any of this, first Pidge was planning on abandoning them all on some stupid, self-centered quest, then the castle exploded catching Lance in the midst all of it, and now it was flying off with Shiro also on board. And him, useless, trapped on the ground watching with baited breath.

He should have done something, somehow. Known there was a plot, that it couldn’t possibly be so simple and peaceful to have the castle open for visitors. Should have known danger was inevitably waiting around the next corner because, obviously, they weren't allowed to catch a break just for a moment. He could have been there with Lance, taken the hit himself maybe. Prevented Lance from diving on top of Coran like some kind of stupid human shield. He could have done something, anything.

Anything to forget the tight lines of anguish on furrowed brows, the raspy moans of pain, the slight whimpering hitch to Lance’s breath as his innumerable wounds stole his consciousness from them. Anything to forget the scorched smell in the air, the shards of metal protruding from Lance's already battered chest like a god damned pin cushion. Anything to prevent Lance from nearly bleeding out right there, on their own home base, right beside help and healing but so, so far away. It was too much. Keith didn’t deal well with waiting or being helpless, he liked to have direct influence, fix things with his own hands or else die trying. Waiting was pulling at his mind and his heart, dragging frustration out of his clenched teeth far too easily.

Lance had been walking around snarky as ever a few hours ago, all big talk and wide steps and that aggravating smirk following him everywhere. He’d been fine, maybe less boisterous than usual but they were all a little homesick these days. Well, except him, but that was different. Lance had always been a loud guy, even at the academy. He had a big family, almost as big as his ego. There was a lot to miss, and it was clearly taking a toll on him. Keith felt bad for him, but he was able to box it up and push it aside so easily it was difficult to process his lows with his obnoxious, cocky, over confident highs.

And now, now Lance was passed out somewhere on a ship full of the enemy, skin precariously paling with no one to so much as call him an idiot. Last he’d seen Lance, he’d been barely breathing, just an impression of the blue clad, larger than life asshole he’d come to know. Like he was already gone, or halfway there. It scared him, unsettled him in a way he didn't know how to process. Keith was… worried. They were his teammates, they were important to his quest to save the galaxy so of course he was, but there was more to it. He respected Shiro, cared about him, would fight along his side as long as he was able but he’d never expected the same about Lance.

But he did, fiercely. And almost, something more too.

Hatred, probably. The guy was annoying. Yeah, that explained why he was fretting, pacing back and forth. Why he couldn’t get the half lidded pleading gaze before Lance’d truly passed out on them out of his head. Why he kept aching in his chest like he was missing something vital, something that belonged right between the spaces of his rib cage like a sigh or a breath. All 'cause he hated the guy.

 _Please be okay,_ he thought, scanning the stars and the skyline for any sign of a miracle. _I can't, I can't do this_. 

“Allura! Allura, come in!”

And, apparently, that miracle had arrived in the form of a small technological nerd stowed away in the castle.

“Pidge!”

The relief hit him hard, Allura as well, judging by the round tears forming in the corners of her wide eyes. The world nearly swimming out of focus before realigning; he'd thought, for a brief moment maybe but still a moment, that they were already lost. He hated himself in that moment for his cursed inherent pessimism, for daring to assume anything but his teammates safety, for thinking only of himself. 

He spaced out a little during their technobabble, Allura listing a series of commands and instructions but all Keith could really focus on was how close his friends were, and how far. Shiro had been his rock in this strange landscape, everyone’s rock really. He was level headed, calm, unassuming, and absolutely broken to pieces over his capture. And Lance… Lance could be fading away already just outside of arms reach. Pidge was doing everything within the realm of possibility to bring them back down to the ground but there was a timer that was running out and none of this was moving fast enough.

 _He’s dying in there_ , he thought desperately, running a hand through his messy dark hair and turning away. _They’re both dying._

A gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder and Allura’s sad eyes met his and he realized he’d spoken out loud, that the emotions in his gut had somehow worked their way up to his throat and his eyes and _god_. “We have to help them,” he needed her to understand, needed himself to understand why he cared so much, so intensely. He didn’t have the words for the wild scrambling claws of fear in his gut or the twisted barbed wire around his heart or the way he so desperately _needed_ in that moment, for Lance to be alright. He needed her to know that this was important, as if somehow she wasn't already entirely aware herself.   

“We will, I promise you. Lance will be alright,” she smiled, a solemn promise and he latched onto it for all he was worth.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking, only that there was an armed enemy attacking his friend- his brave and smart friend who’d rescued half of their team singlehandedly- and that Lance looked so much worse than before. Other than that Allura had charged in with him, and for this second their team was back together. Other than that Lance was clearly not doing well but pretending like he was on top of the world still because he was _that_ kind of asshole. Even while holding a gun and smirking that god damned smirk, he looked haggard and pale and worn down. Then he of course, had to go completely limp and send Keith's lungs bursting into his throat.

Shiro, always one for keeping level headed took advantage of the situation, of the smoke from the blast and his own non threat status, even while bruised and battered himself,  threw himself forwards only to get tossed to the side like a rag doll. Like a bundled up sack of twigs and branches, and he was almost sure he heard a snap somewhere in the distance. Between Shiro's obvious weakness and Lance's limp form, Keith lost himself for a moment.

They’d won somehow; he remembered drawing his bayard and lunging forwards and Allura scattering off to mess with the electronics, and distantly Pidge flitting in between his downward strikes to land a few stabs. He remembered a few close calls, a few bruised muscles and tender bones, and their inescapable team connection stringing them all along in perfect synchronization and finally, finally it all ending.

When the dust settled, Shiro was smiling tiredly, Pidge sent him a thumbs up but Lance still wasn’t moving.

Lance had been awake, some small victory amidst the larger chaos but then, he’d just deflated. Collapsed. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut, tossed aside into the dirt and there hadn't been time to panic but now there was all the time into the world. Keith’s heart, swooping and careening with the sudden relief of finally being in action, crashed hard at Lance’s slack expression and closed eyes.

Keith slid over to him, careening down onto both knees, unable to prevent the yelp of terror from filling the quiet peace around them and _reaching_. He pulled the mop of brown hair onto his lap, pulled his outstretched arms closer and paused, a flurry of motion scattering across his every nerve but what could he do? Lance wasn’t breathing.

He wasn’t _breathing_.

Oh, _god,_ his mind was screaming, oh god, no.

He wasn’t a doctor, he knew only a few basics here and there. How to tie up wounds while in combat to stay focused. How to splint a couple of sprained bones. Nothing like this, nothing about burns and purple oozing bruises, nothing like a sputtering light in the wind he couldn’t keep together, couldn’t hold in his hands and force it into one piece.

  _‘Lance,’_ he pleaded because there was nothing else to do. _‘Lance, no.’_

And maybe he’d said it out loud again, maybe these emotions coursing through his veins were too big for just himself, but Lance’s eyelids flickered. Just barely, but enough. A signal that he wasn’t quite gone, that the worst conclusions could be shoved aside for the moment, that nightmare was for another day.

“Lance,” he said again, like a sigh of relief, and the boy smiled that infuriating, horrible smile. Keith didn’t cry often, but he felt the burn in the edges of his eyes and he could only stare back.

“Are you okay?” It felt like a weak, paper thin question under the weight of everything, under the weight of those brown eyes watching him carefully.

Lance pulled himself up, fighting a losing battle quickly with his strength and his energy and Keith wanted to fuss, wanted to help but Lance had that stupid smile trained on him, pinning him still. “We did it,” he said simply. “We are a good team.” And like it was on queue, like the universes had swallowed him whole, he felt it. Starlight streaming across a vast nothing, swallowed up by black holes and imploding planets, like a promise endlessly reaching, and it was everything and nothing all at once.

Keith was helpless, hopeless, smiling back just as brightly.

__

“He really is going to be alright, you know.”

Keith hummed in response, crossing his arms tighter on the railing in front of him, pretending the sudden voice hadn't ripped him from a particularly gloomy train of thought. One involving a sudden flat line and a lot of angry finger pointing his direction. He heard Pidge sigh in frustration and shuffle closer.

“Really, I asked Allura about them. These pods I mean. There’s approximately a one in three hundred thousand and ninety-four chance that he won’t be completely healed. And an even smaller chance he won’t wake up immediately after the time is up to loudly voice his complaints about the lack of room service.” Keith nearly snorted, and then blinked and felt oddly touched at the sentiment; Pidge, up late at night on a makeshift laptop, looking up exact statistics in order to determine the likelihood of their friend being alright. Numbers and facts were comforting in stark terms, no room for error. Keith appreciated the thought immensely, a nice distraction from his own less positive trains of thought. Numbers he could hold onto. 

He breathed out, allowing his shoulders to roll forward slightly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh? So that’s why you’ve been in here constantly for the past three days? Because you know he’ll be just fine?”

Pidge’s sarcasm was irritating, too cutting in the quiet room, but he let it slide with a roll of his eyes. Besides, he probably was being a little over cautious anyways. Maybe a little obsessive even, if he were to really be honest. He felt defensive, almost, regardless. It had been three days hadn't it? That was more than enough time to think up possibilities, to have uncertain nightmares that left him gasping in panic and desperate sorrow; he just needed to double check. To make sure the nights quiet hadn't tip toed past them all with Lance tucked under arm. 

“It’s fine, Keith. I get it.” Keith’s eyebrows rose in confusion.

“You do?”

Pidge smiled, a little shy and lopsided. “Yeah. Lance will be okay, and you'll be the first one to greet him, or punch him. Whatever comes first.”

Keith blinked, glanced across the room to where Lance slept, uncomfortably propped up and still, bathed in electric blue light and sighed again. He didn’t really get it himself, didn’t really feel the need to but something about checking in on the sleeping, lanky jerk made him feel whole. Safe. He was embarrassing himself being overly clingy but he couldn’t resist. His thoughts clouded themselves too much with panic, with assumptions and negativity, hearing the steady heart monitor kept him afloat. Anchored not too far from shore. It was comforting to know at least one person wasn’t judging. Though, something told him in the way that Shiro had glanced over at him, half carrying half dragging a passed out Lance to the infirmary, and softened his gaze ever so slightly, told him Pidge wasn’t the only one.

His fingers twitched, tapping vaguely on the railing below. “One in three hundred thousand, you said?”

Pidge leaned forwards on the railing, mirroring Keith’s pose and looking outwards towards their friend. “And ninety-four. There’s always the off chance with all this alien tech he could come out of there with pointier ears or a coifed mustache though.”

“I’d love to see that; he’d lose his mind.”

“In excitement, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t dramatic when Lance finally woke up a few days later. No slow shutter of eyelids, no baited breath or gasps of relief. He just stumbled out from the pod, already rubbing his eyes and groggily reaching for them like they were all a steaming cup of coffee in the early morning. There weren’t any poetic statements, just Lance, raspy unused voice telling them all to quiet down and complaining about being left out of all the exciting moments. Just like Pidge had anticipated. And then his eyes had landed on Keith just that side of too softly and Pidge had been right about that too, it seemed. 

Pidge knew too much, really. 

And then of course, Lance immediately jumped to taking all the glory for his one moment of consciousness through the entire ordeal. Boasting about how clearly, they'd only won because of him so they couldn't cut him out of all the exciting stories. Bragging about his strength and bravery and all sorts of quips here and there. Strangely quiet about the fact he’d saved Coran’s life, though, and about the inevitable scars lining his cheek faintly, too. Lance was all boisterous noise, and hidden depths, and Keith could see him touch his slightly mottled skin and wince, just a little like another joke to laugh off later on. Like something else he'd have to tuck away and pretend. He wanted to take his hand, suddenly, pull it away and tell him his face looked like the same dumb face it always had. That he didn't need to hide this.

Hunk had pulled him into a noogie before the moment had become too tense for Keith to swallow down, and everything fell back into place.The castle was running, the team together and frankly, stronger than ever. Pidge was staying, there was a galaxy to save and really, that was just their day job. They could all use a nap and a vacation, but evil plans didn't stop for coffee breaks. Time to jump back into the saddle, kids. 

“I think I understand what he meant,” Pidge had said softly. _Family._ And the word coursed through him so powerfully he couldn’t think to smile or laugh or hide from any of this honesty because it meant the world to him, and then some. He’d never had too much to call his own, not since the academy, not since he’d dropped out and ran away and lost it all.

He’d been something once, something great and glorious and ‘going to make his family proud’. But he’d given it all up for a one-way trip into the inky nothing of the night sky, and for a while he thought that was all he’d ever have. But then there’d been Shiro and his gentle reassurances, and then forces outside of all of them and help to offer. And now, a place to belong. A team. Friends.

And a pair of smooth brown eyes that sparkled just on the side of dangerous whenever he stared a little too long. And that damned s _mirk_. 

It felt like the start of a different adventure, all of this. A cliff face waiting for him to take the leap, and dammit all, he’d never been one for thinking his decisions through but this was a risk he was already taking before he’d made the conscious choice to.

And maybe that was alright too.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Keith paused, rubbing the back of his neck almost reflexively before he caught himself. This was Lance, he was being dramatic, making everything uncomfortable and awkward unnecessarily. Lance wouldn’t judge him, well, he _would_ but they’d be jokes and teasing words and it would be fine. It would be _fine_ , so why couldn’t he—

“Relax, would ya? I just wanted to show you something.” Lance slid over to him, calm and bored looking as ever. The same twinkling mischievousness glinting amidst his dark eyes, the familiarity grounded him and made him twitchy all the same. Lance slid his fingers in between Keith’s own, carefully and then like a burst of courage, almost aggressively. Possessively. Keith couldn’t pull his gaze away from their now intertwined hands, unsure.

“Uh… do I…?” Lance rolled his eyes with a huff, turning and pulling Keith along with him down the winding hallways.

“Where are we going exactly? And uh, why are you holding my hand… should I—?”

“Keith, for like ten seconds maybe could you shut up and just follow me?” Keith snapped his mouth closed, confusion pulling his gaze towards their still entwined hands, almost wonderingly. It was so easy, so simple he almost wasn’t sure if Lance meant all of this in the same way Keith took it to mean. But then, it was Lance, he wasn’t subtle, wasn’t secretive. The guy wore his heart on his dumb jacket sleeve, and maybe it really could be so simple.

He’d been half expecting some kind of confession, a realization, but that wasn’t either of them. And there was nothing for Keith to realize anyways, at least not in the way they did in the movies because he’d always known, somewhere underneath the chaos and the saving the world. His heart had been shaken so deeply when Lance had been injured but it hadn’t really surprised him the way he thought it would because, it was Lance.

The guy just slipped in, like a cog that had always been there, like a piece of the puzzle he’d always been looking for and he was just so incredibly obnoxious, how could loving him be any different?

Finally, Lance stopped short. A smirk painting his features as he turned back to look at him, unclasping their hands just for a moment as Keith took it all in. A window, or a hologram, he wasn’t sure, depicting Earth in perfect crystal clear clarity. The pinks and blues of the dim lighting made the planet shine, made the sprinkles of molten gold in Lance eyes light up like their own kinds of starlight. Keith was sure, then if he hadn’t been before that this boy was too much. Too much of everything and he was sure his heart couldn’t handle it.

“I’m not sure if you miss Earth, I mean I know I do but I found this and, well. Pidge is more worried about family, and Shiro is always so damn serene I never know what that guy’s thinking and—“

“It’s incredible,” Keith assured him, voice faint but packed with the words he would never be able to find. They floated in the air anyways, and for a moment he wondered if he’d accidentally said them out loud again because Lance looked stunned, for a split second. Something tender and vulnerable and unsure fluttering across his lips and around the creases in his forehead and really, he hated this guy.

Hated his hidden generosity and consideration, his dumb bravery and self sacrificing nature, hated the way he just knew things he had no business ever knowing. But he was so, so, grateful all the same, because there was no way for Keith to figure out his own thoughts about any of this. No way for Keith to explain in a way that didn’t involve an insult or a right swing to the shoulder or a scowl— god, he needed to work on how he dealt with emotions that was probably unhealthy—because he was suddenly kissing Lance right on his idiot mouth and nothing would ever be able to explain how natural and right all of this felt.

He was helpless, again just like when he was staring up at the ship taking Lance and Shiro and all his remaining hopes right off into thin air, but it was alright. Anything with Lance was alright by him, as long as it meant Lance would be too distracted to open his stupid mouth for ten seconds. But then again, as Lance pressed back into the kiss, all hands and heat and that dumb, _terrible_ smirk, maybe his mouth had it’s uses.

He knew he’d said that one out loud, and definitely deserved the string of snarky insults that followed after.

“You know you love me,” Lance pouted. And all Keith could do was smile back.

 _Yeah, yeah I do._  


End file.
